


Your Nerdy Face Looks Better Alive

by Vienamarie



Series: UnderClass by Nasty-Bones [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vienamarie/pseuds/Vienamarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans tried to be brave, he did. But he was dragging Papyrus down, and he was too tired to withstand the abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation two-shot based on nasty-bones' UnderClass AU! 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!! Attempted suicide, self-harm, bullying, suicidal thoughts, etc!!!

Sans hugged his knees on the couch and read over the message he'd drafted. He had stayed home from school again, feigning an illness to avoid dealing with the the kids that liked to pester him, and was in the process of trying to work up the nerve to deliver his text.

“Just send it.” He mumbled aloud. “Papyrus is at school, so he can't bother you about it right away…”

Chances are, the taller skeleton’s phone was off or the battery was dead. He was constantly neglecting to charge the thing, something he liked to remind his boyfriend every time he came over.

No… Were they really boyfriends? The both of them had started out hidden safely in the closet (which, ironically enough, is where they fucked for the first time) before Sans was exposed as a homosexual. How anybody found out, he wasn't sure, but Papyrus’ sexuality was still safe. 

Their relationship was a secret. Sans didn't want it to be, but he wouldn't expose Papyrus like that. He didn't deserve to be bullied, too. It was a horrible, horrible experience, and it’s gotten to the point where he isn't sure he's safe anywhere except inside his own house. 

Sans was a mess. There was no point in dragging Papyrus into it, and to avoid the taller skeleton’s exposure, he would need to sever his ties. 

He sent the text, then shut his phone off and went upstairs.

•

Papyrus was on the verge of falling asleep in class. He glanced to his right where Sans’ desk sat empty for the third day in a row. 

Was he really sick? Skeletons normally didn't develop illnesses, but it still happened. When he'd tried to visit Sans or talk to him, the smaller monster assured him he would be fine and declined his presence, saying he was contagious and didn't want to get him sick, too.

Not that Papyrus cared. He ditched school for worse reasons, and getting sick for real would mean his father didn't have to scribble a lie into his excuse forms. He was pulled from his musings when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He took it out and opened the new text message with a smile. Sans normally didn't contact him during school hours! Was he finally bored and ready to get together again?

His eyes scanned the text. The smile was torn from his face. In an instant. He felt cold.

“ _...fuck._ ” Papyrus blurted, catching the attention of half the classroom and the teacher.

“Papyrus, go to the office! I won't tolerate your vulgarity, young man!” 

“Sorry, Ms. Dreemur.” He said, standing without protest and rushing out of the room past the goat monster. Instead of heading for the office, though, he sprinted for the exit and started gunning it to Sans’ as fast as his legs would take him.

He shakily dialed his number and waited.

One ring…

“C’mon, Sans…”

Two rings…

“Pick up, pick up the phone!”

Three rings…

Papyrus pushed himself to run even faster once he heard the automated voicemail prompt. Once he heard the dial tone, he spoke.

“Sans, don't fucking do anything stupid! I'm coming, just don't do anything!” He practically shouted into the receiver. He repocketed the phone and kept running, the words of his text still burning in his mind:

_I'm breaking up with you, Papyrus. This has gotten out of hand. I don't want to be someone’s dirty secret, and I don't want to risk exposing you to all of your friends. Please don't mourn for me when I leave. -Sans_

Papyrus’ eye sockets stung. He feared he wouldn't get to him in time. When the smaller male’s house appeared he practically threw himself into the door, knocking hard on the wood and testing the knob. It was locked.

“Shit!” He hissed, running around to the back door. It was locked as well. More inspection revealed all of the windows to be closed, and most likely latched shut, so there was nothing left for him to do.

At least, there was nothing left for him to do in a calm manner. He turned, finding a heavy rock on the ground, and chucked it into a window. It shattered on impact, and he didn't hesitate to climb inside.

“Sans! Answer me!!”

•

The skeleton monster ignored the pounding on the doors as he held his soul in his hands. It was small and dim, fluttering weakly. 

Sans couldn't help but smile. It was nice to know Papyrus cared for him enough to come to his house in the middle of the school day. Hopefully he wouldn’t get mad for stumbling into his room to find a pile of dust on the bed. 

“I'm sorry I caused you this much trouble.” He said, though he knew Papyrus couldn't hear him, and began to squeeze the soul.

It _hurt._ Sans gasped and tears sprung to his eyes, but he pressed on. Pain consumed his body, running deep in his bones as it did through his soul, but he knew that if he continued it would stop soon.

Everything would stop soon. The bullying, the shame, the embarrassment…

His time with Papyrus would end, too. The knowledge of that hurt more than his soul.

He started sobbing.

•

Papyrus played a very panicky game of hide and seek for a minute inside Sans’ house, calling for him and darting from room to room. Once he heard the initial sob from upstairs, he was running again.

He reached the skeleton’s bedroom door and tried the knob, but it wouldn't open. He knew he didn't have time to run outside and crawl in through his window, so he threw his body against the door instead. 

“Sans!!” He shouted, ignoring the pain of his shoulder as he persevered. “Let me in, Sans, let me in!!”

The skeleton cried louder. Papyrus felt his soul seize in terror and mortification. What was happening in there?

“Sans, please! Don't do what I think you're doing!!” He exclaimed. He could sense magic on the other side of the door, and hoped against hope it wasn't the manifestation of the monster’s soul.

“Leave me alone!” Came the choked response. It was laced in agony, and Papyrus knew he couldn't go at this a safe way anymore.

He stepped back from the door and called upon the magic in his eye, summoning orange bones into reality. When a scream split the air all hesitance was gone.

He took aim, and launched them at the door.

•

Sans was shaking violently on the bed, unable to sit up anymore. His vision swam and blackened in rapid fluctuation as he continued to pull his soul apart. He barely had the dexterity to keep going, but if he stopped he wouldn't be able to start again.

If he stopped, he could be saved. He didn't want to be saved.

Papyrus was beating on the door and trying to get in. Sans had hoped he would stay away or realize he wasn't worth the trouble and leave. 

He called out to be left alone and Papyrus stopped hitting the door. Part of him was disappointed, but most of him was relieved. He didn't need to see him in such a pathetic state. He didn't need to see Sans in all his cowardice.

He felt his soul begin tearing and screamed. It hurt so bad, more than anything he'd ever felt in his life. But on the edge of that pain, way, way on the edge and slowly creeping closer, was numbness. He couldn't wait to reach it. 

All of his senses were dulling. He couldn't hear anything but a soft ringing in his head, couldn't see anything but a wavering sea of darkness, couldn't feel anything but his soul in his hands, growing dimmer and dimmer. 

He didn't sense the door shatter open in an explosion of bones. 

He didn't see Papyrus stumble into the room. 

He didn't hear him scream his name, again and again. 

He didn't feel him climb into the bed with him and force his hands away from his soul, or cradle him into his arms and sob apology after apology into his skull.

He didn’t feel Papyrus grasp his soul and begin to pour healing magic into it, because he was too busy chasing the pleasant, soothing warmth that had filled his bones.

Was this was death felt like? Was he Falling Down? He didn't know, and he didn't care. As the last threads of consciousness slipped away from him, all he could think about was the one person that might miss him when he was gone.

But even Papyrus would get over it, he's sure...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooooo, finally got enough internet to upload the second chapter!! Anyway, this isn't done yet. I'm thinking maybe one more chapter is left? I don't wanna leave it on such a sad note, y'know?

Before anything, before Sans could feel or see or regain full consciousness, he heard someone crying. It was soft as it bounced around in his skull; they weren't sobbing but they weren't just sniffling, either. 

Why was this person so upset? What was wrong? Did people cry after they died? Maybe this was his afterlife - doomed to sadness.

He wasn't sure he minded that. The skeleton probably deserved it for committing suicide. Besides, be was warm and comfortable in bed, it didn't matter -

Wait.

He was in a _bed_?

Sensations slowly came back to him and alertness returned. With a growing sense of panic, he became aware of the soft bed beneath his body and the other sounds within the room.

A machine was beeping, steadily for a time and then stuttering, somewhere next to him. Under his shirt he could feel something fastened to his sternum. Beneath that, he could feel the dull, painful pulsation of his soul. 

Sans’ eyes snapped open and he sat up in the hospital bed with a scream.

_He was still alive._

Someone approached the bed. Firm arms encircled him and he looked up to meet Papyrus’ eyes. 

He looked like shit, and he'd clearly been crying for a while, now, but the smile that lit up his face when he looked at Sans made the smaller skeleton feel infinitely worse.

He didn't want Papyrus to smile at him like that.

He didn't want Papyrus to hold him like he was. 

He didn't want Papyrus to be here right now.

“Sans! Sans, you're okay, it's -” Papyrus started to say, wanting to comfort the male. He was cut off by his frantic thrashing, nearly getting smacked in the face.

“NO!” Sans shouted. Tears ran down his face and he clawed at his shirt in disbelief. He was alive, he was breathing, and he hated it. He had been so close to dusting. “Why did you do this!? Why did you come!?”

He turned and glared at the skeleton that had saved his life.

_“Why didn't you let me die!?”_

•

Papyrus felt the lights in his eyes go out as he watched the monster shriek at him. He had half a mind to shake the boy like a tambourine but his anger wasn't justified, it really wasn't. He could handle a shrieking Sans. 

What he couldn’t handle was a near-dead Sans. He remembered the way his boyfriend looked when he entered the room:

He would always remember his blackened, unseeing eyes. He would always remember the eerie stillness of his body on the bed. He would always remember the flecks of dust chipping from his bones as he started to Fall Down. He would always remember Sans’ soul, and how _horrifically torn_ it was in his violently quivering hands, split almost in half in the skeleton’s endeavor to end his life. 

He would remember sobbing into the phone for help and seeing the look of mortification on the paramedics’ faces as they saw that near-broken soul. He would remember having to fill out all of the paperwork for Sans in the hospital because he had no family to do it for him. He would remember how fragile he looked once the doctors wheeled him out of the ICU fifteen grueling hours later. He would remember sitting in the room they were in now, clutching at his hand like he’d slip away if he didn't. He would remember praying to any deity that would listen for two days to help Sans survive, to beg and _plead_ for him to open his eyes and smile at him again.

Papyrus doesn't think he'll ever forget, even if he wanted to. 

_Why didn't you let me die!?_

The question burned his soul and made him shudder. His hands tightened around his arms and he locked eyes with the smaller skeleton.

“Because I love you, Sans.”

•

Sans didn't believe him.

Why? Why did he think he was worth his time? Why did he think he was worth saving? Why did he even give him the time of day? 

Time of day...how long has it been since the accident? He began to tremble again as realization after realization entered his mind.

Sans had survived his suicide attempt. That in itself held many consequences:

He would probably be hospitalized; for how long, he didn't know.

Once be recovered, he would be placed on suicide watch. That meant he would be placed with a caretaker, or forced to move out of the house he inherited from his father. 

_He would have to go back to school._

The word on these kinds of things spreads fast, faster than being exposed as a homosexual. If he thought he had it bad before, it was going to become _infinitely worse_ after he returned.

“Sans?”

He jolted, startled out of his thoughts to realize his bones were rattling obnoxiously. Papyrus was looking at him with concern in his eyes and he loathed it.

He didn't want his _pity._

“I hate you.”

Papyrus flinched, as if physically struck. “No you don't.”

“I was supposed to die.” He said, angry and upset. He wished Papyrus would stop holding him as gingerly as he was. It made it hard to be as angry as he wanted to be. “I was supposed to die and then all of this would go away, but you had to be a goddamn hero and save me!”

Sans wanted to hit him but he couldn't muster the energy. God, he was exhausted, and the thing stuck to his sternum was itchy. He lifted his shirt to see what it was and found a small sheet of magic metal locked in place, designed to prevent him from summoning his soul. It was a measure the hospital had taken to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself.

The skeleton couldn't help it. He started crying again.

“I h-hate you!” He spat with much less venom. He beat weakly on Papyrus’ chest as the taller male hugged him closer. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Papyrus…”

The other monster let him chant and vent his frustrations, staying silent and rocking slowly back and forth to soothe him.

For a while that was all that happened; Sans mumbled and cried, and Papyrus held and rocked him until he fussed himself to sleep. Lying him back down, Papyrus brushed his stray tears away and trembled.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said to the unconscious male, “I'm sorry you're unhappy, Sans. I'm going to change that, though…”

He climbed off of the bed and sat back down in the chair he'd been sleeping in for two days, crossing his arms and looking out the window with a heavy sigh.

Papyrus was going to fix this. He wasn't going to let Sans get as bad as he had been ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

When Sans left the hospital a week after the incident, the sheet of magic metal remained fastened to his sternum to prevent further damage to his soul. He was driven home in a taxi and arrived to find Papyrus sitting on his porch with some duffel bags next to him.

“The hospital staff agreed to let me watch over you.” The tall skeleton explained. Sans merely walked past him and entered the house. The changes were easy to spot and almost amused him:

Tables with pointed corners had been sanded into a rounder shape. The kitchen had absolutely no sharp objects in it - no blender, no knives, no vegetable peeler, no cheesegrater, etc - and the silverware was replaced with plastic. All of the doors, barring the front and back entrances to the house, also had their locks removed. 

Sans crossed his arms and leaned against the wall once he was done looking around, gaze directed at the carpeted floor (it was hardwood last time he was here). “I haven't checked the bathroom but I'm going to assume the medicine cabinet is either locked or empty?”

Papyrus looked up from his seat on the couch. This was the first Sans had willingly spoken to him since waking up in the hospital. 

“It’s empty.” He said, standing. “Sans -”

“Listen, whatever arrangements they made to have you watch over me is fine.” The shorter skeleton interrupted. “But, I'm hungry. I dunno if I have to ask you to make me food or take me out or if I can make my own, but I'd like to eat something that isn't jello and sterilized vegetables.”

The other monster nodded. “I can cook for you,” he said simply, “or we can go out. Whatever you want.”

Sans shrugged. “Make me something, I guess.” He then turned and walked upstairs to his room. The door had been replaced since Papyrus tore it down with his bone magic to get to him, but he left it open. Crawling into bed, he lied flat in his back with a grunt. 

For curiosity’s sake, he tried to summon his soul. All it did was light up the metal on his chest and flash his stats: HP 1.0/1.0. His hands fell to the sheets, defeated. Of course, he'd known he had lost the moment he woke up in the hospital. 

There would never be another chance. He just had to stay alive and endure what life had to throw at him.

•

The first week was hard. Papyrus understood that Sans wasn't ready to forgive him for saving his life, so he only spoke to him when he was telling him to eat or give him the mail from outside.

Aside from that, the two monsters had a routine: since Papyrus couldn't leave Sans alone, and since Sans wasn't cleared to return to school, a private teacher came to the house to give them lessons from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon, with a break for lunch. On the weekends, they were free to do as they wished, which consisted of Sans sulking in his bedroom and Papyrus watching television downstairs. On Sundays, a doctor visited to check Sans’ stats, ask him some basic health questions, and leave again.

At night, Sans slept. Papyrus, too paranoid he would injure himself again, slept in the hallway outside his door. It was painfully uncomfortable on his back and he kept waking up every few hours to peek into the room, but it was worth it. 

•

A month in, Sans entered the living room and stood next to the couch until Papyrus took notice of him.

“Sans?” He said, sitting up straighter and shutting off the tv.

“I want to leave the house.” He said stiffly. “I've got cabin fever.”

“Okay, where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.” Sans said. “The mall, the park, the school. Somewhere that isn't in this house.”

The taller skeleton stood and slipped his shoes on. “Okay. I need to shop for groceries, anyway, so we can go to the mall.”

Sans nodded, and they left the house in silence.

“Do you want anything specific while we're out?” Papyrus asked, openly watching Sans. He couldn't help it; the monster was still gorgeous, even with the perpetual frown that seemed to inhabit his expression these days, and he loved him dearly. 

The other male blinked. “You know what I want, but that opportunity was taken from me now that I've got this damn piece of metal on my chest.” He flicked his sternum through his shirt, the dull _twang_ making Papyrus cringe.

“I'll never apologize for wanting you with me, Sans.” He said, voice thick. This was the most conversation they'd had since he moved in with him as his caretaker. “I love you.”

“...you shouldn't.” He mumbled. The thick wall of apathy he had, for just a second, was transparent, and the taller skeleton could see how pained he really was.

He was so hurt. But the one thing Papyrus kept clinging on to was the fact that Sans had never told him he _didn't_ love him anymore. His responses were always deflective or dismissive.

“But I do.” He replied. They entered the mall and headed for the grocery aisles, grabbing a cart. More silence stretched between them, filled only by the background noise of the freezers and other patrons. 

The tension was thick enough to choke on, and Papyrus couldn't breathe it in anymore. He wanted to talk to him so bad. He wanted to break through that wall his boyfriend built around himself and seek even ground again.

“...I'm sorry.”

Sans scoffed, eye lights scanning over different cereals. “For?”

“For being ignorant to what was happening.”

The shorter of the two paused, confused, and turned his way. “What?”

“I didn't…” Papyrus gripped the cart tight enough to turn his ivory bones a chalk white. Now that he’d started, he couldn't stop. “I knew you were being bullied at school but I didn't know how bad...I didn't know you were so…”

He was shaking. This was the first opportunity he'd had to discuss this in full with Sans. This was the first chance he'd had to truly apologize for being so blind to his suffering. He'd asked, of course, of he was okay - he always asked if he was okay - but never could he make himself believe that the problem was serious enough to warrant any help. He had thought Sans was strong enough to ignore the childish words of petulant bullies. He had thought there was no cause for real concern. And because he had been so careless, he'd almost lost the monster he loved more than anything.

That guilt would tear him apart for the rest of his life.

“Sans, I swear -” he stammered, suddenly weak in the knees and leaning almost all of his weight against the shopping cart. “I swear, if I knew you were in so much pain I would've stopped it. I would've helped, I would've done better for you, I'm so sorry!”

He let go of the cart and almost fell over. The only thing keeping him up now was a pair of boney arms that didn't belong to him. This was the first physical contact they'd had in a month.

“Papyrus?”

“Sans, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so -” he hiccupped, beginning to fall apart after weeks of staying dutifully strong for the shorter skeleton. “F-fuck, I'm so sorry, Sans, I-”

“H-hey…” The male mumbled, lowering him to the floor. They were causing a small scene, drawing the attention of a few other shoppers, but neither paid them any mind. “Calm down, Papyrus.”

Sans was swept up in a tight hug and he didn't fight it, letting the monster cry.

“I love y-you so much and I sh-should’ve paid more attention t’you, and I -” Papyrus went on like the other hadn't even spoken. “I'm sorry they hurt you so b-bad you c-couldn’t find a way out and I-”

“Okay, okay, let's go home.” Sans said, rubbing small circles into the taller male’s spine. “Take me home, Pap, we can go shopping tomorrow...let's go home, okay? Come on, I'll help you stand…”

They got up and stumbled slowly out of the mall. Sans wanted to feel smug, seeing Papyrus so upset like he was, but instead he felt bad. He didn't like seeing him so…beat. He didn't want him to be sad anymore.

_Oh_ , he can't help but think, _well, don't I feel like a hypocrite._

They went home in relative silence, broken by Papyrus’ quiet sobs and almost gross hiccupping. If he had any lungs, he would've passed out by now. Sitting him on the couch, Sans dropped down next to him and continued to rub his back.

“Hey, don't...don't cry.” He said, feeling awkward. “It's… Really, don't. I'm alive, aren't I? You did something good.”

Papyrus looked at him, cheeks flushed orange and eyes rimmed the same color. Tears escaped his sockets at a slower pace and Sans reached out to brush them away. The other male grabbed hold of his hands, simply feeling him.

“I'm so sorry.” He croaked, broken.

“...I...I know.” Sans murmured honestly. “I didn't tell you what was happening. You were so popular -”

“Did you think I cared!?” Papyrus snapped, startling him. He couldn't pull away due to their still holding hands. “I don't care about them! I don't care what they think of me! I care about _you_ , Sans! I love you, I would do anything for you!”

He yanked the skeleton into his lap and kissed him fiercely. Sans whimpered and suddenly felt a rush of intense desire take hold. He scrambled for purchase and found it in the taller monster’s shoulders, gripping them hard.

“Papyrus -” he panted, breaking the kiss. His mind was fuzzy with warmth and confusion. One hot kiss couldn’t make him forgive the skeleton for ruining his plans, for ruining his life! “Papyrus, wait -”

_”Please,”_ the word was whispered and desperate, aching like someone in physical pain, “please let me _touch_ you, please let me show you how I feel.”

Oh, hell, maybe it could.

Sans shivered violently and leaned in to whisper into Papyrus’ skull:

_“Take me upstairs.”_

It didn't have to be said twice. Papyrus practically crushed Sans into his chest and shot off the couch, moving upstairs like a man on a mission. Sex was not a healthy way to make amends for a conflict as serious as this, but neither could be bothered to care. 

•

There was still a lot of recovery ahead. Sans was going to struggle to find things to live for, to find reasons to try again in earnest; but as he lay in bed, panting harshly and soaking in the afterglow in Papyrus’ arms, he found that he was willing to try.

“I love you.” Papyrus murmured.

“You shouldn't,” replied Sans. Then, in afterthought, “but I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo would you be ashamed if I said this is the first multi-chaptered story I've ever completed in my 11 years of writing? It was a blast, though, I'll admit! 
> 
> I love the Underclass au, and you guys should definitely check out Keksbela or Nasty-bones on tumblr! You can check me out, too, if you want? I'm elainapoststhings!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Criticism is always welcome!


End file.
